A Promise to Fly
by Lopithecus
Summary: Instead of Clark being off in his fortress playing dead after "getting killed" by Doomsday when Bane breaks Bruce's back, he was off planet. When he comes back and finds out what happened to his friend, he pays him a visit.


**A Promise to Fly**

 **A/N:** **I just read the comic in which Bane broke Bruce's back (because I'm trying to read some comics that I've been wanting to read for a while now) and I couldn't get it out of my head what it would be like if Clark hadn't been "killed" by Doomsday and was still there when Bruce's back was broken.**

Clark was off planet when it happened. When Bruce's world was flipped upside down by the one man who could break him while taking advantage of the exhaustion Bruce was feeling. Clark should have never left Earth on that mission when he did. He saw how tired, how worn out and depressed Bruce had been lately, and though he had worried, he didn't really think he could do anything about it besides suggest to his friend that he get some sleep. Of course, Bruce hadn't listened and maybe Clark had given up too soon, but either way it doesn't change what has now happened.

Clark lands on the front steps of Wayne Manor without a sound. He's in his civilian clothes but he hadn't felt like taking the time to drive here. He had been gone for a good month before coming back and it's been at least three weeks since Bruce had his run in with the one they're calling Bane. He's new as far as Clark can tell as he's never heard of him and Bruce has never told him about him either. Though, who knows how long he's been in Gotham watching Bruce. It doesn't really matter now and Clark feels like he's been gone for far too long.

Clark takes a deep breath and then knocks on the door. It takes a while for Alfred to answer, most likely having been attending to Bruce. The older man looks a bit shocked at seeing him there but then he quickly steels his face back into neutral. "Mister Kent, what brings you here?"

Clark can't help it. He gives Alfred his best "you know why" look and says, "I just got back from an off planet mission. What happened is still all over the news despite it being three weeks already. Do you think…" he trails off at Alfred's look. The butler honestly looks wary to have Clark here. Swallowing, he continues. "I mean, is he well enough for me to see him? Can I see him?"

"Master Bruce has been in a coma for three weeks, Mister Kent. He's just barely woken up a few days ago."

"Oh," Clark tries really hard to not look dejected but he knows he fails. "So maybe I shouldn't bother him. I can come back later."

"Actually," Alfred starts, stopping Clark mid turn to leave. "I think it will do Master Bruce good to see you and he might actually appreciate you being here." Alfred turns his back to Clark and starts walking away. "Follow me."

Clark does as he's told and they soon arrive at Bruce's bedroom. When Alfred opens the door, Clark has to swallow the lump in his throat to stop him from gasping. "He looks…" He looks, quite honestly, broken, shattered, defeated.

"That he does. Please try not to wake him as it seems like he is sleeping right now." Alfred goes to leave, one hand on the door knob in order to shut the door behind him. "He needs the rest." With that, the man leaves.

Clark stays planted where he is for a long time, just staring at his best friend lying in the bed. He has a neck brace on and a tube that is pumping oxygen into him going up his nose and into his lungs. There's a cast on his leg and an IV drip attached to his hand. When Clark x-rays him, he sees all the bruises and broken bones, the one in his spine sticking out the most. He stares at that fracture for a very, very long time, knowing what that injuring on such a sensitive part of the body means.

He blinks back into normal vision when there's a soft, strained clearing of a throat. Clark looks up into dull, depleted blue eyes. "Clark."

Bruce's voice is rough and it sounds like it is tough to talk. Probably because of the oxygen tube. Clark finally approaches the bed, pulling a chair up next to it. "Hey Bruce." He tries to sound cheery but he doesn't, even to his own ears. "You look… better than I thought you would."

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut. He can only look at Clark from the corners of his eyes as the neck brace prevents him from turning his head. "Don't make me laugh."

"I wasn't trying to." Clark gives him a small, wary smile. "Besides, you're not supposed to be able to laugh that easily." One corner of Bruce's mouth twitches, as if the muscle is begging to lift up in a half smile. It doesn't quite manage.

Silence settles around them and Clark can't take his eyes off Bruce's face. He looks paler than he normally does, his eyes sunken in and dark circles under them. Clark can count the wrinkles that have been added to his face amongst the others since Clark has been away. The bright, shining gleam in Bruce's eyes have now faded to a dull, tired look and even his hair looks less shiny and more brittle. The man has clearly not been taking care of himself prior to this incident. Clark should have pushed him more.

A wave of guilt washes over Clark and settles nicely in his chest, constricting his airway. Clark tries to keep his breathing steady while simultaneously staving off the tears building up in his eyes. Bruce, of course, notices no matter how burned out and broken he is. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you pity me."

A short, painful laugh rips its way out of Clark, dislodging the tears. They fall down his cheeks swiftly and Clark wipes them away. "I don't pity you Bruce. I could never pity you. I" — love you — "care about you, that's all, and I'm just worried."

"I'm not dead. You should worry about yourself more than me."

Clark shakes his head. "No you're not. Still, you should know me well enough to know I can't do that."

This time, when Bruce's mouth twitches, it does manage to form the tiniest smile only Bruce is ever capable of. "Yes, I know."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help Bruce."

"I would have never asked for your help."

"I still would have."

"I know that too."

Clark smiles at him but it doesn't reach his eyes. "What happened Bruce?"

Bruce explains what happened with some difficulty. Some of his memories are fuzzy and some Clark suspects he just doesn't want to talk about. Clark respects that and can feel his anger rising as Bruce describes more and more of what happened. When he's done, he says to Clark, "Don't go after him Clark."

"But-"

"Please Clark." There's worry in Bruce's eyes. "Don't go after him."

Bruce should know Bane couldn't hurt him but maybe he's worried that if Bane could beat him, Bane might find a way to beat Clark. He would have to have some Kryptonite but they don't know if he does. Clark decides not to argue with him. "Okay Bruce, I won't."

"Promise me."

Clark frowns and watches his friend. Bruce isn't looking at him. "I promise."

Bruce seems to relax a little after that, being reassured that Clark won't go after Bane. Clark wants to but they both know he won't, not after promising Bruce. They sit there in silence again, Bruce staring at the ceiling and Clark staring at Bruce. Clark's chest hurts at seeing him like this and he blurts out, "What if you had died?" Bruce's eyes slide to the corners to peer at Clark and Clark's breath hitches again. "What if… what if Bane had killed you? When I was gone? What if…"

"Clark."

"What if this turned out so much worse, Bruce? I don't… I don't…"

"Clark."

"You're my" — love — "best friend and I don't…" He has to wipe the tears away again because they decided to show back up unwanted.

"Clark."

"Gosh, Bruce." Clark takes a hold of Bruce's hand, squeezes it gently, and lowers his forehead onto Bruce's bare shoulder. "It could have been so much worse."

He's shaking, he can feel himself shaking, and his heart is pounding so hard, so wildly, that for a minute it's all he can hear in his ears until he adjusts his hearing to drown it out. A hand is placed in his hair and the fingers begin to stroke. "I didn't Clark."

For the third time, silence fills in the space between them as Clark gathers himself back up and Bruce pets his hair soothingly. When Clark sniffles and finally calms — still not lifting his head though — Bruce whispers, "You saw my back, didn't you?" Clark nods against his shoulder. "I may never walk again." Clark doesn't say anything, doesn't know what to say to that. "I'll never be Batman again. Gotham is lost Clark. That's as bad as it can get. That is much worse than me dying."

"No," Clark protests, finally lifting his head and causing Bruce's hand to fall away. "No, because if you had died then Batman would still be gone and then Gotham would still be lost. In this case, there's still a possibility that you can get better and be Batman again. Then you can save Gotham, just like you have done a million times over. Don't lose hope Bruce." Clark gives him a small, hopeful smile. "And even if you can never walk again, you'll still be able to fly Bruce. Because I'm never leaving you. Because I'm your best friend." Because I love you.

Bruce looks at him, studies him, from the corner of his eyes, and his mouth twitches again. It causes Clark to smile warmly back, showing that Clark can hold all the hope for the both of them if Bruce's isn't capable of it right now. And yes, Clark will never leave him and though Clark would like more than just friendship from this beautiful man, if this is all he's ever going to be able to give him, he gladly will do so.

 **A/N: And there you have it. Hope you all enjoyed. :)**


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